


This Crew Is Unforgettable

by Benedicthiddleston



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Christmas, Crazy stuff, Friendship, Gen, Hilarious, Love, M/M, a to z challenge, not in order, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-01 00:52:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1038398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Benedicthiddleston/pseuds/Benedicthiddleston
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>7 one-shots from 2013 for the A to Z challenge at the LJ Community 1_Million_Words.</p><p>Ch. 7: Chekov's Christmas</p><p>Chekov is in high spirits - Christmas, more Christmas, oh - and did he mention Christmas?! His festive spirit gets him in trouble, though. It leads to a disaster on an off-ship exploration mission, but good things come from bad things - like maybe showing your Captain what Christmas really means? Pst, it means family :D</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Apples

**Author's Note:**

> So, each chapter is a different one-shot, and each title/theme will revolve around a certain letter (A, B, H, etc.) They are not be in order because I did not write them in order. 
> 
> They all revolve around the five year mission theme. I hope you enjoy! (These 7 stories were for the 2013 A to Z Challenge in the LJ Community 1_Million_Words. I am joining the 2014 A to Z Challenge, so since I am starting fresh, I am making this complete for 2013. Thanks for understanding!) 
> 
> Unbetaed, proofread once, and a bit crazy :D
> 
> Letter A for ch. 1! 
> 
> Apples: Jim sure has cocky perfected!

**Apples**

He sauntered into his quarters, the red delicious apple half eaten. It was all he had gotten to eat after 19 hours of deliberation with a first contact species over who the heck owned the unnamed and unmanned planet they were orbiting. Needless to say, it had been successful, if not a highly charged discussion about air quality, phasers aimed on unsuspecting individuals, and who owned the _cows_.

“Craziest. Shift. Ever.”

His bond mate raised an eyebrow from his sitting position on the floor beside the bed, his meditation mat out.

_Oops_.

“Did the Tara species agree to your treaty?” The Federation wasn’t even _involved_ this far out in space, it was that desolate on their five year mission. So, Captain James T. Kirk had to take a lot of diplomatic matters into his own hands. And a few with the added advice from his First Officer, Commander Spock.

“Yeah.” Kirk managed another bite of his apple, feeling exhausted. But he knew he needed the food, even if he was already tired of chewing.

Spock rose from his spot, facial expression neutral. “You didn’t eat?”

“That obvious, huh? I’m fine. I have an apple.” Another bite, another slow chew. _Gees, Spock’s first impression of me five years ago had been me eating an apple like a cocky boy._

“You are 100% human, and require far more sustenance-“

“Spock, I’m fine. I’m just tired. We’re heading into a three day boredom stretch, so I expect to be eating lots and checking up on all parts of my ship. In the mean time, are you going to kiss me, or am I just going to stand here eating an apple like an idiot while waiting for a ‘thank god you’re Captain and I’m not’ kiss.”

Kirk didn’t even have to underestimate his First Officer, nor his bond mate. Demanding something was of his nature – having Spock follow through with that demand was definitely a plus.

So when Spock planted a kiss on his Captain’s lips between bites of apple, Kirk wasn’t even pleasantly surprised. He was just happy.


	2. Bones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somehow Jim always manages to end up in the presence of Dr. Leonard "Bones" McCoy after every mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Letter B for ch. 2!

**Bones**

“Oh MY GOD. NO. NOT AGAIN!”

“It’s not – Bones, it isn’t _that bad_.”

“Captain, I have to disagree-“

“No, it really isn’t. See, I can still move – _ouch!_ ”

“Jim, go to sleep. Now. I have to repair everything you break.”

“But _Bones_ … _come on…_ ” and Jim slipped into a drugged unconsciousness.

Spock stared down at his sleeping bond mate, his right arm a complete and utter _mess_. It had broken in three places, and come unhinged from his scapula. Not to mention his collar bone was shattered. All because Jim had wanted to explore a cavern, and said cavern had dropped rocks the size of San Francisco’s skyline onto unsuspecting trespassers. In the process, the Captain’s right arm had been crushed and two hours later had been freed from his predicament.

“No blood loss at least. The skin stayed intact. He just – he went in without checking it out first. He is _so_ reckless. Can’t we wrangle him in, Spock? Why didn’t you STOP HIM?!!!” Dr. Leonard McCoy ranted off at the mouth as he barked angrily for anesthetic and a sterile surgical bio bed. Jim was going to need surgery, and it was going to be a crazy mess. Bone regenerator and nerve repair – how Jim hadn’t been in _more_ pain was ridiculous. Jim was immune to pain it seemed. His appendix had ruptured while he was on shift, and hadn’t thought anything of it. Only when septic shock had set in had he managed to get himself to his _quarters_ , where Spock noticed the listless look his bond mate was exhibiting, and forcefully, but carefully, dragged him to sick bay.

Jim was a reckless individual with his health. Everyone knew it. Dr. McCoy, nicknamed Bones by Jim himself, just wished it wasn’t always at the expense of every precious drug that his best friend and Captain _wasn’t_ allergic too.

“The Captain certainly has a mind of his own, Doctor, and I thoroughly attempted to convince him not to go in without assistance. His curiosity –“

“HIS CURIOSITY MIGHT AS WELL GET HIM KILLED!” Bones roared, imaginary smoke emerging from his ears.

But they both knew it wasn’t his curiosity, but his _heart_ that would get him killed. In reality, it already had. His heart had lead him straight into the warp core three years before and he had succumbed to radiation poisoning after saving his crew and ship. Only the miracle of Khan’s blood had revived their Captain to see another day, to take another breath. It had been at the cost of everyone – emotionally and physically.

Spock did not respond to Dr. McCoy’s outburst.

“AARONS!” Dr. McCoy had a fire in his eyes that Spock had only seen a few times before – when he was determined to fix Jim up and set him right. And it would always show up when Jim was in trouble. There was no doubt about that.

“I will leave you to your work, Doctor. Please notify me when the Captain awakes.”

“Always, Spock. AARONS!”


	3. Hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It had started with a few strands in the sink. Then a few more on the pillow. And then a huge clump in the shower. And then it was all gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Letter H for ch. 3!

**Hair**

It had started with a few strands in the sink. Then a few more on the pillow. And then a huge clump in the shower. And then it was all gone.

Spock watched helplessly as the drugs used to manage the virus inside his bond mate’s body senselessly deprived him of his energy, his body fat, and his hair.

An alien virus had managed to inhabit itself inside a human host during the last planet-side visit on Baccaran VIII, and had spread through various crew members. Two had died, and six others were in sickbay in various stages of illness, ranging from deathly ill to almost well. It seemed each host was unique and while others had the ability to fight off the virus, others did not. Unfortunately, Dr. McCoy was having difficulty synthesizing an accurate antiviral to combat the virus in each unique body. And of course, when it came to Jim Kirk’s body, the same treatment would not work like it did for the rest of the crew. Which meant Jim was wavering on the edges of life and death. Jim had managed to force Dr. McCoy into letting him stay in their quarters because _I’m Captain and I am NOT STAYING IN SICKBAY where I can infect others,_ and as Spock, half human and half Vulcan, was immune to the virus, Dr. McCoy had consented begrudgingly. The virus enjoyed a complete human host – so obviously it disliked Spock’s half-Vulcan physiology.

In the mean time, Jim was getting drugs that were trying to keep his vital organs from failing, even though his gallbladder was done for and his kidneys were in failure. He wasn’t eating, and his hair – his _hair_ was gone. He hadn’t looked in a mirror for three days. Then again, he hadn’t really left their bed in three days.

Spock watched his bond mate breathe uneasily in his fetal position on their bed, his small form barely making a dent in the mattress. In the two weeks since becoming infected, Spock hadn’t left Jim’s side, not for a second. He slept, ate, meditated, and kept updated on the ship’s condition from where he sat monitoring Jim’s decline. Lieutenant Hikaru Sulu had been promoted to Acting Captain until either Jim was well enough to resume command, or Spock had to step up as Captain in light of the loss of their Captain.

Dr. McCoy was doing everything he could to find the cure. All he could do while researching endlessly was to keep Jim comfortable and in stable condition, for what it was worth.

Jim moaned in his sleep, shifting like he was in discomfort.

“It’s all right, t’hy’la, I am here,” Spock soothed, running a hand down Jim’s hot arm. He knew Jim favored touch, and as their relationship was romantic and bonded in nature, the act did not bother Spock in the least.

Jim was sleeping constantly, a vast majority of his energy spent on fighting off the virus ravaging his system. When he was awake, he suffered from nausea and pain. Spock was afraid Dr. McCoy would make Jim move into sickbay if the situation worsened – and if that occurred, Spock knew he would lose his lover.

“Spock…” Jim surfaced from his sleep shivering, even with the heat of their room above normal for humans because of Vulcan physiology, and having two blankets covering his form.

“You’re all right, Jim,” Spock murmured, hand on Jim’s forehead, noting his t’hy’la’s increased temperature. _Fever_.

“My… my hair… it’s… gone.” It wasn’t even a question. More of a realization of the fact. Spock’s heart painfully constricted, his chest aching. It was awful to watch his lover this way – slowly dying, waiting for a cure that might never come. To be broken because of one small, insubstantial thing in the midst of much worse problems – it was _awful_.

But Spock didn’t show his increase in emotion, even though he suspected Jim could feel it through their bond. “It grows back.”

“But what… what if I…”

“Shhh, Dr. McCoy hasn’t given up on you yet.”

“Bones – Bones is best…” the drowsing effect of the pain medication was really affecting his speech, and with a sigh, he was back asleep, still shivering.

Spock would watch and wait for more days to come - waiting for a cure, and waiting for an end to the agony.


	4. Roses are Red, Violets are Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anniversaries are important to Jim. Spock doesn't mind Jim's forgetfulness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Letter R for ch. 4!

**Roses are Red, Violets are Blue**

In Jim’s mind, there were _far_ too many anniversaries to keep track of. From JoAnna’s birthday to the honoring of Spock’s mother, Jim had a lot of familial obligations to keep up with. It’s why his PADD was set up to remind him of every single important detail of his life when it came to remembering extremely important dates.

So when his PADD failed to remind him of Spock’s and his ‘wedding’ day (basically a reminder of the day they first bonded officially and Spock’s father actually accepted Jim as his son-in-law and all that great family joy that comes along with way more awkwardness then is allowed – Jim tries to ignore the fact his parents are dead and his brother was severed from his life decades ago, if not two lifetimes ago), Jim essentially had a meltdown.

“No, no, no, no, I don’t forget shit. I don’t forget _important_ shit. I would NEVER forget this date, please, you gotta – you gotta forgive me, Spock, I didn’t mean to – I didn’t ask to forget what today was. My PADD broke and –“ Jim was having a freak out over a small detail.

Spock – Spock didn’t _care_ that Jim forgot. Remembering dates was not high on the list of important information on a ship of 400+ when Jim was _Captain_ of all people.

“Jim – Jim, please, stop,” Spock calmly put two hands on his lover’s face, which shut him up almost immediately. “I do not care that you forgot. We’ve been bonded for two years, and remembering how long is barely a speck in the light of how much more time we have together. You – alive, well, _walking, talking, breathing_ , and overall still being a brilliant Captain is what I appreciate and love about you. You are human – and that alone reminds me that you, and even I, are not always perfect and logical. I love you for you, not because you remember dates or silly notions like having to get me something because we’ve been bonded for two years. I’m just thankful we’ve had these two years together and you are _still here_.”

The elephant in the room couldn’t have been larger. Jim had barely escaped death two months prior from an alien virus. Four crew members had died, and eight others, plus the Captain, had wavered on life and death while Dr. McCoy had researched a cure. Once the cure had been found, those who hadn’t gotten over the virus themselves (the Captain and two other individuals whose immune systems did not have the strength to fight off the virus alone), an antiserum had been created to rid the virus from their systems and allow their vital organs to begin the healing process. And then a vaccine had been created, giving immunity to every other crew member in risk of catching the virus if it ever made the rounds again. While the other crew members had suffered mild side effects of skin impairments or chronic migraines (all easily managed by medication), the Captain had walked away with a diagnosis of permanent kidney failure and a transplant had been necessary. A match had been easy to find within the crew of 400+ (a replicated kidney would have also worked, thankfully, had a match not been found), and the Captain had only recently been declared fit for duty and was currently slowly circulating back into the flow of shifts and the grueling duties the Captain performed – especially in the critical thinking department.

“Spock, I-“

“Your health is much more important to me, and I would rather we celebrate the fact you are back to working order then the fact we’ve lasted two years without killing one another,” Spock stated without one hint of emotion. Jim could only imagine Spock was making half a joke – because they were _far_ too in love to kill each other. Sure, they had had their fair share of fights and moments of intense _insanity_ , but that didn’t mean they didn’t love each other.

“But it’s important to _me_ ,” Jim managed to whine before giving up entirely. His PADD had failed him, but Spock was not angry. For as much as the clock was ticking away the time left on the day of their 2nd wedding anniversary, their love and their time together would never diminish – even after Jim died (which, in both their minds, had better be in 60 years and long after their service to Starfleet and the Federation). Because even that elephant in the room – the fact Spock would, if given the opportunity to live a full life naturally, live much longer then Jim because of his Vulcan physiology – could not deter them. It had not deterred them in allowing them to make the decision to bond, and it was not deterring their decisions even today, in that moment, and especially during their five year mission.

Spock gently planted a kiss on his lover’s forehead, pulling him close. “We have each other. I’m sorry you forgot – but I am not mad, my t’hy’la. For something so simple, I could never be mad. If it makes you feel better, I can recite a poem I read in my book just last week.”

Jim shrugged, wrapping his arms around Spock’s waist, eyes focused on his lover’s face, waiting all the same.

_Roses are red, violets are blue, for no matter what we may do, we will be together – just me and you_

A few minutes passed in silence until Jim broke it. “You didn’t read that.”

Spock managed a thin smile. “No, no I did not.”

And Jim forgot all about his PADD, his important dates shoved inside it’s memory banks, and learned to take it all one day at a time – because what were the little things in regards to being loved by a half-human, half-Vulcan being and having the best crew and family in the whole entire universe?


	5. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Struggling to find his place with Spock, Kirk first has to face his worthiness in regards to what he thought was obvious: his place as Captain of the Enterprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Letter M for ch. 5!

**Memories**

He stirs in his bed, restless. For as much as he desires the sleep he so desperately needs, he cannot get himself to fall asleep, let alone attempt it. A soundtrack plays in his mind, reminding him of – of _pain_ , _fear,_ and the indistinguishable thought that he is unworthy for his position, no matter what others tell him.

The off-ship mission that day had been all about negotiating a safe treaty between the Federation and the planet of S’arong, and even possible admission into the Federation. But things had _not_ gone as planned.

_“You are not strong, Mr. Kirk.”_

_“It’s Captain, S’yroi, and I do not take your meaning.” Jim was trapped, pushed up against a wall in an unknown corridor, the telepathic being of the species on the planet they were negotiating with for Federation rights too close for comfort._

_“Your mind is weak, Captain Kirk. You are not fit for the position you hold.” And the hand Jim had been trying to keep at bay touched his face for barely a second and he was plunged into familiar, but not comforting, memories and images._

Ten minutes later Spock had found his Captain in the middle of a panic attack and no other life form around. Without a thought, Spock had ordered them and everyone else still on the planet beamed up. An hour later, going by the little information Jim had given to him, Spock had managed a few vocal and nasty filled threats against the people of S’arong and set the _Enterprise_ on a course heading _away_ from the planet.

Now Jim couldn’t sleep, as much as he knew he needed to. But the fact someone had told him he wasn’t fit to be Captain, and a stranger at that, and then violated his mind – his memories, his thoughts, his _past_ , took a toll.

_I dare you to do better_

_I gotta study_

_DAMMIT JIM, HOLD STILL!_

_I am emotionally compromised_

_He’d let you die_

_Is there anything you would not do for your family?_

_No ship should go down without her Captain_

_I’m scared, Spock_

_Because you are my friend_

_You were barely dead_

_I can’t live without you, do you understand? I need you as my First Officer. I need you to love me and keep me safe. I need you, Spock, I NEED YOU!_

_You died, Jim. You died. I don’t know if I could handle that again._

_WHAT MAKES YOU WORTHY FOR THIS POSITION,_ CAPTAIN?

With a start, the memories playing back in Jim’s mind gave rise to the shout from S’yroi shortly before the meld disconnected rather painfully. The disruption made Jim shove a hand into the mattress and he sighed in frustration. _I can’t… I can’t do this_.

He got up, dressed like he was about to take over the bridge on a normal shift, and left his quarters. He needed a better place to think.

*

“Computer, please locate Captain Kirk.”

_Captain James T. Kirk is in engineering._

Spock turned away from the console in the hall that was parallel to the Captain’s quarters and headed for the turbo lift.

Three point two minutes later, First Officer Commander Spock was passing various engineering crew members as he searched diligently for the Captain.

After having helped calm the Captain into a more manageable state, Dr. Leonard McCoy hovering nearby as per usual, Spock had gently coaxed out the events that had occurred shortly before Captain Kirk had been found in a state of obvious distress. After learning that the Captain had gotten lost and then had been ambushed by one of the High Council of the S’arong, to which had inflicted pain of considerable amount on the Captain, Spock had gone straight to the bridge and left a stern warning against the people of S’arong to _learn their manners and control their telepathic abilities_ before severing negotiations and warping away towards another unknown location.  

All of this – the mission off-ship, the trembling hands he had tried so hard to still earlier that day, the fear and the anxiety in Jim’s eyes – on the heels of a nasty fight between the pair over where they were heading with their relationship.

Spock had felt uneasy allowing Jim to agree to a bond that would last for life. Jim wasn’t Vulcan, didn’t understand the consequences of the bond. Spock also had reservations in regards to Jim’s habits – one of constantly coming close to falling down the rabbit hole, to dying forever once again. But Jim was willing – Jim wanted them to bond like nothing else in the world.

_“Please, Spock. Don’t do this. Don’t-“_

_“I cannot in good conscious allow you to bond with me. We are incompa-“_

_“No, please, don’t say that. We are. We work well together. Look at us. We’ve had our fair share of fights. We’ve had our problems – all couples do. But we are strong, we can do this. Look at all we’ve accomplished – all that we have done and_ will _do. Please, Spock. Please.”_

_“You died, Jim. You died and I feared I would never hear your voice again or touch your hand.”_

_“But you hunted Khan down and –“_

_“I wanted to kill him. For killing you.”_

_“Spock, I’m here. I am_ right _here in front of you because of you. I am alive because of you! And I am more than willing to bond with you. I want to marry you. Don’t you understand?”_

To whatever deity above, Spock understood. He understood all too well.

The fight had ended with tears. The next day, their shift had been stilted at best, glaringly professional and a tad bit awkward for all those on the bridge. And then Jim had gone down to the surface of S’arong with Lieutenant Uhura, and when Jim had gone missing, Spock had basically shoved aside heaven and earth to get to the planet. 

Now his Captain was not in his quarters, and certainly not in Sickbay. The computer had said he was in engineering. Where in the vast workings of the most critical part of the ship he was actually was a puzzle Spock was still working out when Chief Engineer Lieutenant Commander Montgomery “Scotty” Scott stopped the half-Vulcan in his wake.

“Aye, ‘ello, Commander. What can I do fer ya?”

“Mr. Scott, would you happen to know where the Captain is?”

Spock watched as Mr. Scott made an ever so-subtle shift to his right, as if blocking from view the _exact_ hiding place of the one and only Captain James Tiberius Kirk.

“Haven’t seen him, Commander.”

Spock didn’t have to answer as it dawned on him exactly where he stood at the precise moment. The subtle motion from Mr. Scott had alerted Spock to a memory distant in his mind, but ever present in light of recent conversations. _Warp core._ He walked right past the out-spoken Scotsman towards a far-too familiar place as Mr. Scotty tried to verbally stop him. “Mr. Spock, I would not go over there!”

Jim’s head rested against the glass door, one hand curled into a fist that looked like it had been repeatedly smashed into the door with little regard to pain or forethought of injury, the other making small circles on the ground. It was a far better picture to see that Jim was safe on the outside of the warp core then _inside_ , as the memory of before was forever ingrained in Spock’s mind - that of a breathless Jim slumping to a painful position beside the glass door, strength gone, life force dwindling rapidly. He had saved the ship, the crew, and _earth_ , at the cost of his very last breath. To see him alive now allowed for Spock to breathe easier, even if the task at hand had become much more difficult to comprehend.

He knelt, taking Jim’s quickly-bruising hand in his own two. “Jim.”

Eyes of a bright blue not known in space fluttered open as Jim registered Spock’s presence.

“Something troubles you.”

Jim managed a hoarse laugh before his other hand curled into an angry fist, the trembling from earlier back in full force. “Obvious, is it?”

“Tell me what troubles you.”

Jim’s eyes closed, his breathing growing erratic. “I can’t – I can’t do this. I can’t.”

Spock squeezed his Captain’s hand. “Jim-“

“I can’t be Captain. It’s all I have ever wanted – ever since joining Starfleet. But Pike was right, I haven’t learned one lesson and – and I can’t do this anymore. I’m kidding myself thinking this is right for me. He – Pike – dared me to do better. But I haven’t done better, and I’ve failed. You, my crew, even me.”

Spock put a finger to Jim’s lips, shushing him. “Stop, please. You are my Captain and the Love of my life. Whoever has told you these lies - they are wrong. You are absolutely meant to be Captain. Since the start of your Captaincy you have exhibited strength, diplomacy, bravery, a kind heart, a stern command, an acceptance of all individuals - both a part of your crew and of the planets we have visited  
\- and a desire to follow the ways of Starfleet justly while also understanding the concept that there will always be an option where no loss of life has to occur. You came down here to this spot to attempt to reconcile your duty to this crew, to myself. You and I both know the bravery in your heart that allowed you to fix that warp core and breathe your last, without a second thought to your well being. You died to save your ship and your crew. And today you are the brilliant Captain of the _USS Enterprise_. You can continue to do this because you already have begun, and that alone makes you worthy. I wish I could make it up to you for leading you to believe these lies. I never meant to harm you, my t'hy'la."

Jim had started to cry, his eyes open, swimming in tears. "H-h-he said I was unworthy, and then h-h-he-“ Jim couldn't say it, the memory uncomfortable now, especially around Spock.

Spock put his hands on Jim's face, blocking all his mental thoughts as to keep from initiating a meld. "Who, my love, who?"

"S'yroi melded with me. The reason I had a panic attack."

The anger was far too familiar, but rightly so. “He had no right.”

“Spock, no – please, it’s just – he was _right_ about me.”

Spock gently released his lover’s face and sat back on his heels. “No, Jim, he wasn’t. He, or anyone else for that matter, will never be right.”

“But what if he was right… about us?”

 _The lingering effects of a mind meld poorly executed._ Spock shuddered at the idea that Jim’s mind had truly been violated, his thoughts, images, _memories_ sorely played around with in an attempt to gain information, to make Jim suffer. For a species so willing to join a peaceful group like the Federation, the S’arong had a long way to come, especially in regards to their telepathic abilities.

“Our relationship in the romantic sense does not affect our professional relationship. I am your First Officer – nothing is going to change that. As for your willingness to bond with me – I am sorry for thinking you could not make the decision soundly on your own. You have every right to desire to bring me peace because of my physiology. For that, I am deeply sorry for my reaction before. It will not happen again.”

Jim was quiet for two point four minutes, until he finally whispered, “You’re okay with my decision? That I need you?”

“I am, my t’hy’la. In all your brokenness, I cannot keep you away from the thing you need most. Stability is something humans crave more than anything else, and stability in our relationship is vital to success of our emotionality.”

“You’re turning human on me again, ya know that, Spock?”

For once, Spock cared not to remind his Captain that he was already half-human, and that his mother had been human – earth was his home, humanity a part of him, as much as he embraced his Vulcan side with much more responsibility and respect. “For you, Jim, I am willing to do anything. Remember that.”

Jim scrambled to his knees, managing to catch Spock off-guard with a passionate kiss. For they would manage the ups and downs of each other’s lives for the rest of their days – on the _Enterprise_ , on various strange worlds, and even back on earth, and maybe even New Vulcan.


	6. Quiet Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He doesn't dream. He remembers vivid memories. Memories he does not wish Jim to ever have to experience again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blame tumblr photo sets because WHY AM I EMOTIONALLY CONNECTED TO CHRIS PINE'S HANDS?!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> And obviously the glass scene, duh.
> 
> The letter Q
> 
> CHEERS!

**Quiet Moments**

_He watches is disbelief as the hand that had held its position against the glass for but a moment drops, weightless after a battle of incomprehensible odds. Odds that had been fought against since day one. Odds that had been battled victoriously for an immeasurable passing of time, all coalescing into this one, final moment._

_And all he can feel is an aching hurt, of words unspoken, of actions never taken, of wrongs never righted._

_The light leaves those brilliant baby blue eyes, and everything that had been important fades into a black hole that cannot be escaped. There is no cure, no way out. Nothing… nothing…_

_There is no end to this pain. There is no way to get the image of a trembling hand against glass out of his mindset. Nothing will ease the sharp stab of regret coursing through every vein tinged green._

_And for that one moment, when his lover’s chest had still risen and fallen shallowly, eyes wide with fear, pain, and utter_ acceptance _, there had been peace. But it had been stolen the second the carefully placed hand fell ungracefully, with a finality of such that comes with a stilled heart._

No, no, please, _NOOOOO!!_

Soft brown eyes shift open as the clear-as-day image fades into the darkness.

He doesn’t dream. He is Vulcan. He doesn’t dream.

It was more a memory brought to the surface.

He shifts in bed, eyes adjusting to the darkness as the outline of his lover appears in the sharp contrasting light at 10%. Jim had managed to fall asleep after muttering something about a migraine and throwing three blankets over his head in a fit of grumpiness. Now the blankets were on the floor, a pillow shoved up against the bulkhead, and a precious head resting on an elbow. It was a familiar scene, a constant after a difficult Alpha shift.

 _Memories. Of that horrid day. But why now?_ He reasons with himself that it was just that – a very familiar memory, one etched into his brain permanently. It was nothing better or worse in contrast to their relationship (bonded in Vulcan terms, married in human terms), and the memory wasn’t a recent one. It was just _the_ memory – the one that haunts most of Spock’s thoughts. The one where he knew he had lost everything – his reason to live, his breath of life – and the only thing spurring him on had been vengeance and rage against a powerful augment. In the end, as such a course could be laid out before them in logical steps; it was that same augment that gave life once again to the love of Spock’s life.

 And he was still alive now, in the flesh, lying in bed with him, asleep, breathing even and measured, _peaceful_.

 _Nothing to worry about. Nothing_.

Spock settled into bed, gathering up the controls in his mind to block the memory for a while. Its reoccurrence was just a slip of the mind, allowing dark thoughts to haunt him once again. But he wouldn’t have it. Not with his bond mate at peace and their minds connected in many ways, especially emotionally. He wasn’t going to allow Jim to suffer – especially not with the reminder of that awful moment. _Death cannot come again. No. Not for many, many years_. Starfleet had trusted them on a five-year exploring mission. It came with its danger, but Spock did not expect to lose his lover, his _Captain_ on said mission.

Gently placing a hand on his lover’s wrist, he allowed love and warmth to flood his sleeping partner’s mind, allowing them both to relax and forget all the bad stuff. They were together and they were well – it was enough. It was more than enough – it was satisfying.

Slipping into a meditation used in any position, Spock quietly thought to himself something he had read once, long, long ago. _Go away bad dreams, boo…._


	7. Chekov's Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chekov is in high spirits - Christmas, more Christmas, oh - and did he mention Christmas?! His festive spirit gets him in trouble, though. It leads to a disaster on an off-ship exploration mission, but good things come from bad things - like maybe showing your Captain what Christmas really means?
> 
> Pst, it means family :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Letter C for ch. 7!
> 
> And a Merry Merry Christmas everyone! I feel like I'm pushing it with the festivities, but I had two things in mind: Christmas and WORDS. And thankfully I managed both. Almost 4000 words, and a lot of Christmas. I feel like this could have used some more doctoring, but maybe later. I'd rather get out a partly good, edited one-shot then drag it out when Christmas is over. Plus, December is almost done, and with it 2013! 
> 
> I wish you all a wonderful end of the year, and HAPPY NEW YEAR!
> 
> And I confess I can't write out accents. So, just imagine Chekov's accent? (I can do Keptin, that's it...)

**Chekov’s Christmas**

_Urgent request for room transfer:_

_Security detail Gamma shift Ensign Aarons, Brandon from Room 4, Deck E to Room 8, Deck F_

_Security detail Gamma shift Ensign O’Neil, Vince from Room 4, Deck E to Room 7, Deck D_

_Science labs monitor Alpha shift Ensign Patterson, Jordan from Room 4, Deck E to Room 11, Deck E_

“Computer, bring up room assignments for Room 4, Deck E.”

A few moments later, the computer recited the four human male occupants in Room 4, Deck E: “Ensign Aarons, Brandon in bed one, Ensign Chekov, Pavel in bed two, Ensign O’Neil, Vince in bed three, and Ensign Patterson, Jordan in bed four.”

His left eyebrow rose suspiciously. “Okay, why are all of Chekov’s roommates requesting an _urgent_ room transfer in an already ridiculously full starship a week before Christmas?” Captain James T. Kirk muttered to himself, setting the PADD down on his desk. The request had come in the evening before, but he hadn’t had time to even read it in amongst the loud protests of Bones ranting about certain medical equipment and Scotty ranting about another transporter malfunction. Shore leave wasn’t for another two weeks, and his ship needed some TLC. Some days it was not easy being the Captain of a Constitution-class Starship, even one like the _Enterprise_ , God-forbid he didn’t love her like Scotty.

Kirk didn’t just accept transfer requests – room, ship, etc. - on a whim. He needed sound reasoning before accepting or denying the request - which meant going to Room 4 on Deck E to find out what was going on.

But before he could even leave his ready-room, the comm. desired his attention. He stretched as he stood, answering the comm. before it got on his nerves. “Kirk here.”

“Captain, there are two individuals here from security who would like to talk to you.”

He almost wanted to chuckle at his luck. “Thank you, Mr. Spock. Send them in and please locate Ensign Chekov and Ensign Patterson.”

There was a pause before Spock finally responded. “Of course, Captain.”

The door to his ready-room opened and Ensigns O’Neil and Aarons walked in.

“Please, have a seat,” Kirk gestured to nearby chairs, giving them a warm smile. “I am going to assume that this isn’t just a social call with your Captain.”

“We know you received our transfer request, Captain. We really need a room change.”

Kirk nodded. “I read the request. Now what I would like to know is _why_. You two and Ensign Patterson are asking for transfers – but Ensign Chekov is not.”

Aarons fidgeted in his chair. O’Neil scowled. “ _Christmas_. Our room is decorated in the loudest lights of all time, and his comm. continues to play Christmas music whenever he is in the room. We – Aarons and I – work a different shift, so we sleep when he’s off duty. And the tree is an awful replication.”

“I don’t even celebrate Christmas, Captain. I didn’t ask to be subjected to this kind of torture,” Aarons added hopefully.

“Patterson cries in his sleep, and he works the same shift as Chekov.”

“It’s bad, Captain. It’s bad.”

Kirk nodded again, listening to their story. “Let’s wait for Ensigns Patterson and Chekov to arrive, and we will sort this out.”

_Keep the Christmas cheer on the down-low. I’m not moving them._ So his mind was already made up, but he would listen to all sides of the discussion before voicing it.

It was barely two minutes later when the comm. sounded once again. Kirk called in the two Ensigns and waited for them to take a seat.

“Ensign Chekov, I have heard at least their side of the story with what has been going on. Did you know they were requesting a room transfer?”

Chekov’s eyes went wide. “No, Keptin. I had no idea!”

“That’s okay. They tell me your Christmas festivities have been a little too much for them. Can you tell me in your own words what you’ve been up to?”

The young Ensign looked bashful as he started to recount exactly what Ensigns Aarons and O’Neil had told Kirk just a few minutes before.  

Once he was finished, Kirk gave them all a thoughtful look. “Ensigns, I am going to deny the room transfer, but-“

“Captain, please! We-“

“I can’t sleep!”

“That’s not fair!”

Kirk held up a hand. “OKAY, OKAY. Listen, I am going to deny the room transfer on the basis that it isn’t plausible at the moment, and Christmas is in a week. I think you can all work out your differences for one week, because after that, I’m sure everything will be cleared away until next season. On that note, Mr. Chekov, keep the Christmas music to a low drone that doesn’t bother anyone else’s sleep, and don’t think I can’t hear you humming on the bridge. As for the lights, they may be on the tree, but not on the walls. Against regulations. They may be on when you are in the room and they aren’t bothering anyone else. You’ve made nice this long – don’t let the Holidays be a problem. Any other issues you may come to me privately. Back to your duties.”

 All four stood, saluted and left, Ensigns O’Neil and Patterson muttering to each other while Ensign Chekov looked a bit deflated.

He dragged a hand down his face, feeling a ton older then he actually was. “Well, that was – lovely.”

“Captain, if I may-“ Spock appeared out of nowhere beside him, Kirk assuming without so much as a forethought to the fact his First Officer had more than likely been waiting for the four Ensigns to leave to discuss some matter. Typical Spock.

“Yes?”

“All four Ensigns looked unhappy with your decision.”

He shrugged. “Compromise. I can’t let them all transfer to other rooms, and Chekov needs to be considerate of his roommates. He’s allowed some Christmas cheer.”

Spock’s facial expression showed nothing as he said, “But you yourself are not a part of that group.”

Kirk gave his First Officer a frown. “This isn’t our first Christmas together, Spock. I’m not big on – it’s just not my thing. And whoever in my crew chooses to celebrate Christmas is allowed to. As long as it is considerate and respectful of those around them.”

“Agreed, Captain. Even though it would be to reason that you have much to be thankful for this year.”

“Not you too.”

Spock’s eyebrows rose in a question, but he didn’t comment.

Kirk shrugged nonchalantly. “Nevermind, Spock. I am sure you stuck around for something more than pestering me about a holiday you don’t even celebrate. Let’s discuss what you came here for.”

“I have been known to exchange small gifts with Nyota, before when we were courting. And my mother was human; the tradition was a happy time for her. Humans enjoy traditions.”

“Depends on the tradition, Mr. Spock.”

Spock wiped all emotion from his face and conceded to the fact he was being illogical attempting to change his Captain’s opinion on this issue, as much as it was also illogical to understand Christmas at its heart. He moved smoothly into his next topic of choice. “Our mission in two days on Gala. Your request for Mr. Chekov to beam down with the landing party – I highly advise against it.”

“Of course you would. But he needs the experience. And it’ll be safe. This will be a textbook expedition.”

“I do not see how textbooks are involved, Captain.”

“I mean that it will go as planned and not divert off course. It’ll be good for him, for us. It means you get to stay on the bridge while I drag around space cadets.”

“They are no longer cadets, Captain.”

“Inexperienced young ones. The security detail will be twice the size with a few Ensigns involved, Lieutenant Uhura is coming down for some fresh air, a few of your science buddies are gonna take samples and use their tricorders, and Mr. Chekov is coming to get some planet side experience, even if we aren’t being diplomatic. He’ll be at my side the whole time.”

Spock couldn’t argue the fact his Captain had a sane rationale. Even though it was highly likely something would go wrong, especially when Captain Kirk was involved. “Then your request stands, Captain.”

“Thank you. Now can we just leave off the Christmas conversations for a while? That was your third attempt in four days. It’s like I’m a pincushion for an experiment or something.”

His First Officer didn’t respond.

“Point made. I’m starving. Would you like to have lunch?”

“That would be preferable, Captain.”

* * *

Dr. Leonard McCoy set the glass of bourbon down on the desk in front of his friend, eyes piercing the outer exterior of thin-layered emotions ever present on Jim Kirk’s face. “Okay, spill. This is your third time in here in the past week, alcohol a commodity on this ship. What’s up?”

Kirk shrugged. “Life? My crew? Tension? Spock? Christmas!” He took the offered glass and downed it in one sitting.

“Christmas?”

“You know I could care less.”

“That’s because your childhood was shit, and every time I dragged you to Georgia, you always got hammered drunk and forgot most of the trip. And let’s not forget where you were last Christmas.”

He raised his empty glass to that one. “Never forget the year I died. No one will _let_ me forget.”

Bones scowled. “Jim, I’m pretty sure your feelings about Christmas don’t need to be drowned in my expensive, _rare_ bourbon. Something else is going on.”

“Chekov’s roommates wanted a room transfer because Chekov is _too_ into Christmas. And how am I supposed to accommodate both sides? Dash Chekov’s spirit entirely so his roommates can sleep? And what about his liberties to express whatever happiness he wants? One of his roommates apparently doesn’t even celebrate Christmas – but that doesn’t mean I have to stop Chekov from being excited about it. It’s about respect. It’s about tolerance. And I just-“

Bones blinked. “Please tell me you’re not crying over a simple problem that you think is a no-win scenario? Because I will kick you out of my office right now, Jim. You-“

“I compromised, okay? I found a solution. But both sides weren’t happy. Unfortunately, Christmas is not the highlight of my life, and… Chekov is gung-ho about it.”

“Then let him be. Come on, Jim. It isn’t going to hurt you to at least allow others to have some Christmas spirit, and if it happens to make you smile, then let it. It’s allowed to. You are allowed to have feelings, even about Christmas. Plus, we’re family. We’re here for each other. That means supporting each other. You compromised with the group, and while they may not be entirely happy, that sometimes is the end result of a compromise. But no one was physically hurt and at least something was resolved successfully.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Bones.”

“I am soooo not your therapist.”

Kirk held up his glass. “More, then?”

Bones rolled his eyes, reached back into his desk drawer, and pulled out the half-full bottle of bourbon. “Okay, but you owe you me more the next time we have shore leave.”

“Deal.”

* * *

Two days later, the beam down to the planet was to the book. The _Enterprise_ was in orbit around Gala, and the landing party set. Now, as the landing party spread out across the barren land of the planet, Kirk led Chekov along to a nearby stream. The planet had no living inhabitants like humans, Vulcans, Klingons, etc., even though it was a Class-M planet. They had come to research and expand their knowledge of different species of flora and fauna – already a three-footed bird had flown above their heads as they materialized on the surface.

“Fresh air. Isn’t it amazing, Mr. Chekov?” Kirk glanced down at the stream, noting fish-like animals in the water. It was interesting, noting the fact they crawled over the rocks at the bottom, and had no fins to actually swim, even though they were underwater, alive, breathing like actual fish. _Fascinating_.

Behind him, Chekov was working with a PADD, quickly writing up things he saw, describing everything in detail. The task his Captain had set out for him was to describe ten new plants and ten new animals, if applicable. Since it was a whole new world, it shouldn’t have been difficult. But the plants were sparse, and the animals difficult to wrangle, as they were free to do as they pleased, especially move as they pleased.

 “Uh, yes, Keptin.”

“Tell me what you’ve seen already.”

Chekov scrolled up in his document, reading aloud, “Stubby, fast-growing tree-like flora, pink grass-like flora, a three-footed bird-like creature, fish-like creatures without fins, and a turtle-like creature with a shell, but no feet visible.”

Kirk nodded, liking how much Chekov had already gleaned from just a glance from their position beside the stream, only a few hundred feet from where they had originally materialized on the surface. A lot could be learned on the first few seconds on a new planet. The power of observation – hearing, seeing, smelling – without touching or tasting. Without harming the place they were visiting.

He stepped away from the stream, Chekov following closely behind.

“I know this is a bit out of place, and you are observing the land, but about your roommates and Christmas-“

“Keptin, it is all right. I understand. I was bothering them.”

Kirk stopped, glancing up into the sky as he heard a bird-like creature call out. “Yes, but I feel that I wasn’t fair to you.”

Chekov shrugged, moving past his Captain to see a plant. “You didn’t kill my festive spirit, Keptin, if that is what you are worried about. I am very hard at work on my shifts, and-“

“That doesn’t excuse the fact I don’t have a great reputation with Christmas, and I was too harsh with you. Christmas is about family. About us. And they are your roommates, I wasn’t going to separate you guys.”

Chekov smiled as he took note of the plant and continued forward to another interesting specimen. Kirk followed, eyes on the sky as his navigator continued to talk. “That’s very kind of you, Keptin. I wouldn’t have wanted to be alone, that’s thoughtful. But-“

Conversation died in a heartbeat as a cracking sound was heard. It was deafening.

In an instant, both Chekov and Kirk were falling – down, down, and even further down.

And then for both of them, there was darkness – and then absolutely nothing.

* * *

_What was that?_

_Did you hear that?_

_Captain Kirk? Ensign Chekov? They aren’t answering their comms – everyone, spread out, search carefully, go in pairs. You know protocols. We need to investigate that sound._

_Hey, look at this!_

_A hole just opened up in the ground! I think – I think it swallowed up the Captain and Chekov!_

_Be professional, Aarons! Someone notify Spock, see if we can find them down there and beam them out. They might be injured._

_CAPTAIN KIRK, CAN YOU HEAR US?_

_ENSIGN CHEKOV, CAN YOU HEAR US?_

_I have Mr. Spock._

_I’m going to climb down._

_WAIT, WAIT – Mr. Spock, does Ensign Aarons have clearance to begin a safe climb down to search for Captain Kirk and Ensign Chekov?_

_You have permission. I am contacting Mr. Scott to search for the possibility of a beam-out._

_Going down._

_Can you see them?_

_Mr. Scott, can you identify their life signatures?_

_I think I see Captain Kirk, I-_

_BE CAREFUL!_

_It’s unstable down here. No wonder they fell._

_Mr. Spock, I have their life signatures. Both are alive._

_But BARELY. Mr. Scott, it is Dr. McCoy. Beam them to Sickbay, NOW!_

* * *

_Chekov, no…_ It had been Kirk’s last fleeting thought before succumbing to the darkness. He hadn’t meant any harm. He had thought a barren planet with no living inhabitants other then plants and animals would have been good non-invasive experience for the youngest, but surely brightest, individual of his Bridge crew. As much as Chekov was only an Ensign, he was a part of the family, a part of a very important part of the ship. His navigation skills were phenomenal. And he needed some ground experience. Except that had all been ruined by… by what exactly?

“Ugh.” All Kirk could remember was falling, falling, and then… nothing.

“Don’t be an infant. You hit your head,” a rough voice

Kirk opened up his left eye to glare at Bones, _his hero_ , regretting ever having woken up that morning. _I am so done with disasters. The universe hates me._

Dr. McCoy crossed his arms, eyebrows raised. “Don’t give me that look. Somehow you and Mr. Chekov managed to find a crevasse in the dirt. It took some skillful maneuvering to beam you out.”

“We were just walking. He was walking towards a plant, and I followed. Not my fault. Speaking of Chekov – how is he?” Kirk struggled to sit up, his eyes wide open now as they searched medical for his youngest crew member. _Crap. I remember… losing him. He fell – so far, I assume. Oh god._

“He’s still unconscious. He had some internal bleeding and his abdomen was open. Probably from a rock falling on him. He’ll live, just like you will.”

_Unconscious. Still._ “Wait, what day is it? How long have we been unconscious?”

“It is Christmas Eve, Jim. About three days, 12 hours, and 38 minutes. Spock can give you the seconds if you would like.”

Kirk wanted to curse. _Three, four days. It’s basically Christmas! No!_ But he managed to keep it in as he was gently pushed back into a lying position on the biobed by one of McCoy’s hands. “He’s going to be so disappointed. Christmas means so much to him.”

McCoy patted Kirk’s shoulder. “He’ll understand. He’s alive – that’s enough to be grateful for. Now, as much as this conversation is just so cheery, you need more rest. You hit your head, and you cut up your right leg. It is probably a miracle you aren’t screaming right now in pain.”

Kirk managed a wry grin. He, oddly enough, wasn’t feeling much, especially in the way of pain. _Good drugs_. “I’m your favorite guy, Bones.”

“Yeah, yeah,” McCoy muttered as he started to walk back to his work station nearby.

“Hey, Bones?”

“What?” He paused, looking back at his _ridiculous, annoying, always the trouble-maker_ friend.

“Thanks. Tell me when Chekov awakes. And can you possibly do me a favor?”

“If I agree, you will owe me _so_ much bourbon.”

“I think that’s fair. See, I need you to do this one thing for me…”

* * *

_His head hurt, his stomach hurt, honestly – his whole body hurt. What… happened?_

Dr. McCoy watched as Chekov’s vitals spiked in lieu of his wake up from days in a medical coma. He watched as Chekov stirred, his right hand curling into a fist. “Ow.” It came out hoarse and sore from days of non-use.

“You’re safe, Mr. Chekov. You’re in medical.”

He didn’t open his eyes, sighing slightly. “How?”

“You and Captain Kirk had a nasty fall into a crevasse in the dirt. I patched you up and you’ll live – you hit your head and something attacked your abdomen. Are you in any pain?”

He nodded slowly. His head really hurt.

“I can give you something for the pain. I want you to rest right now. You’ve been through a lot.”

_Been through a lot… ugh… But wait…_ “W-w-what day is it?” _Please, I don’t want to have missed Christmas._

“Christmas Eve.”

He frowned, desiring to not believe what Dr. McCoy had just told him. _No…_ Chekov felt some pressure against his neck and a warm sensation spread throughout his body. He was tired…

And then he was out like a light for the second time in so much time that his memory could remember.

* * *

A few hours later he surfaced from a restful sleep, feeling better, the aches and pains less. But it didn’t lessen the aching hurt in his heart that reminded him he was sick right before Christmas. On Christmas Eve, in fact. _I just wanted it to be a happy Christmas in space. My parents have no idea. I feel… lonely. No one understands how much Christmas means to me._

His thoughts were interrupted by a cough and a rather excited, _familiar_ voice. “Chekov. Good. You’re awake. I want you to take a good look around sickbay and tell me what you see.” He hadn’t even noticed that Captain Kirk was nearby, also in a biobed. _Oh that can’t be good. We… we fell. Into an open hole. Then I blanked out. That’s what happened. At least – at least we’re alive._  

But Chekov shook away his thoughts for a few seconds and obeyed, blinking three times before noticing fully that there were Christmas lights surrounding his biobed, and his tree with ornaments and sparkling lights was standing nearby. “B-b-b-b-but you said it was against regulations.” He hadn’t even asked for such Christmas recognition. It’s why he had kept it to his room, which had obviously bothered his roommates. _I can’t do anything right_.

“I may have said they were against regulation in your room, but I never said I don’t smudge the rules just a bit in other places,” Kirk laughed from his own biobed.

Chekov went speechless, marveling at the sight. But he couldn’t deny the fact the Captain had done something incredibly thoughtful, bringing Christmas to him when he was sick. _Christmas. In Space! In… sickbay._

“Granted, it’s basically Christmas day and we’re stuck in sickbay for a while, but I guess we all could do with some Christmas cheer. It’s the least I could do.”

Kirk was pretty sure Chekov was blushing, either from the exertion or the surprise. Kirk had no idea.

“Th-th-thank you, Keptin.”

“No… hard feelings about earlier?”

The young navigator shook his head vigorously, much to the chagrin of his doctor who stood nearby rolling his eyes. “No, Keptin, absolutely not.”

Kirk smiled. “Good. And Chekov?”

“Yes, Keptin?”

“Merry Christmas.”


End file.
